


Call Me Carisi

by Kaye_21



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Amnesia, But also, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slash, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 13:54:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5377682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaye_21/pseuds/Kaye_21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This is going to sound crazy, Sonny, but did you ever have a moustache?”</p><p>(Or, Rafael hits his head, and Sonny helps him remember.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me Carisi

“Barba, are you OK? Barba?”

Sonny is freaking out.

Majorly.

Barba is down. Unconscious. One of the bookshelves in his office has collapsed, falling literally on his head, a handful of heavy legal books on top of it, on top of him, and Barba is down.

Sonny didn’t even have time to react before it all happened. Sonny was just briefing Barba on a case, and he was distracted because he was trying to awkwardly segue into begging for another chance to shadow the counselor, and he practically watched as Barba got conked on the head by the falling bookshelf.

Sonny would laugh, but Barba still hasn’t gotten up.

Sonny is not laughing.

Sonny is trying to stay cool as he pulls out his phone to dial 911. Barba is breathing, and his pulse is steady, and he is just passed out. It’s not a big deal.

Sure, there’s a little blood where Barba hit his head. There’s a little blood on Sonny’s hand, from feeling Barba’s head for injuries. There’s a little blood on Sonny’s pants, where he wiped his hand because he didn’t want to get blood on Barba’s suit. There’s a little blood on Barba’s carpet, but that’s nothing a good scrubbing won’t f-

“What happened?”

Sonny exhales.

“You gave me a scare, counselor, that’s what happened.”

“Counselor?”

Sonny’s eyes go wide.

And then they get narrow.

“Wait, are you messing with me, Barba?”

“Who’s Barba?”

Sonny would laugh, but Barba is not joking.

Sonny is not laughing.

~ ~ ~

Barba has amnesia.

From that the doctors say, it should be temporary. Sonny has read all about it, about retrograde amnesia and spontaneous recovery. It should be temporary, but there are no guarantees.

Barba seems to have forgotten almost everything. He doesn’t remember his name, he doesn’t remember his family, he doesn’t remember what he does for a living, he doesn’t remember Manhattan SVU, he doesn’t remember Benson, or the squad, or Sonny.

Barba does remember that he’s a sarcastic asshole with an impeccable fashion sense, which Sonny realizes the moment Barba stage-whispers a disparaging comment about the shoes of his nurse.

That’s something.

Sonny is at Barba’s bedside, and he’s trying to stay positive. He’s trying to be supportive. Barba needs the support. Barba freaked out when his mother showed up because he didn’t recognize her. Barba freaked out when he saw Olivia’s anguished face, because he didn’t recognize her either.

Sonny’s presence seems to help, for whatever reason, so Sonny stays.

See, unlike Regular Barba, whose blood pressure rises at the very sight of Sonny, Amnesiac Barba only seems to calm down when Sonny is there. Probably because Sonny is treating him normally, like this is any other day. Probably because Sonny is playing it cool and acting like this is no big deal.

This is a very big deal.

“Sonny, where’s the nurse? I pressed the goddamn button 10 minutes ago.”

Oh yeah. Amnesiac Barba calls him ‘Sonny’.

Amnesiac Barba asked, ‘Who are you?’, a few minutes after he regained consciousness, and Sonny just replied, ‘I’m Sonny’, without really thinking about it.

Sonny’s first name sounds weird coming from Barba’s lips.

“You pressed the goddamn button, like, 2 minutes ago, Barba. There are other patients in the hospital, you know. She’ll get here when she can.”

Barba scoffs.

Sonny relents.

“Fine, I’ll go get her.”

“No, it’s OK. You don’t have to.”

Sonny has already gotten up, and is about to tease Barba for feigning politeness, all ‘don’t get up, not on my account, even though I kept pestering you until you did’, when he realizes that he’s got all it wrong. Barba isn’t feigning politeness.

Barba doesn’t want Sonny to leave the room.

Barba doesn’t want to be left alone.

Barba is scared. Uneasy.

Barba needs Sonny to stay where he is.

Sonny sits back down.

“Alright, counselor. Is there anything I can do until she gets here?”

Barba seems embarrassed to ask.

For a moment.

“Could you fluff my pillows?”

Sonny cracks up.

“That was your big emergency? Wow, you’re lucky the nurse isn’t here to hear this. Especially after you dissed her shoes to her face.”

“They were ugly,” Barba mumbles, as he shifts his body while Sonny dutifully fluffs his pillows. Once the pillows are adequately fluffed up, Barba lays back down with a sigh.

Barba almost looks cute like that. Relaxed, casual, all–

“Thank you, Sonny.”

All nice and polite.

“You’re welcome, Barba.”

“Why don’t you ever call me Rafael?”

Oh.

Sonny doesn’t quite know how to respond, so he goes for a joke.

“What, you need me to keep repeating your first name so you won’t forget it again?”

Barba shoots Sonny an all too familiar look. For the first time since his injury. A look full of scorn, with a hint of mockery and a touch of condescension. Sonny actually finds that soothingly familiar.

“I call you Sonny, and I expect the same courtesy.”

“You call me Sonny ‘cause you still don’t know my last name.”

“What’s your last name?”

A reintroduction.

Sonny chuckles. Mostly because, this time, he has actually managed to make a half-decent first impression. Sure, they’re at a hospital and Barba doesn’t know his own name. But Sonny is moustache-free and he’s wearing a nice vest and Barba actually seems to like him. That’s way better than the first time they met, when Barba took one look at his cheap suit and turned away without saying a word.

“It’s Carisi. Dominick Carisi, Jr. But people call me Sonny. Not you, though. You never used to call me Sonny.”

“I didn’t? Why not?”

Sonny figures he’ll be honest.

“’Cause you hate me.”

Barba seems to consider this.

“We don’t get along?”

Sonny figures he’ll be honest some more.

“Nah.”

OK, so Sonny figures he’ll be vaguely honest. He doesn’t want to get into the specifics. He and Amnesiac Barba have established a good rapport, Sonny doesn’t want to say things like “I think I annoy you” or “You think I’m stupid” or “You wer–“

“Why? We never dated, did we? You’re just my type. Did we have a bad break-up?”

Sonny ignores almost everything Barba said and focuses on what could possibly be important.

“How do you know your type? Do you remember something? Your exes?”

Barba shakes his head.

“No. Not really. But I know I find you attractive.”

Oh.

That’s… unhelpful.

Among other things.

Sonny stays on course.

“Yeah, well, that’s a bad sign. It doesn’t look like you’re getting your memory back. You never used to find me attractive before.”

Barba seems to consider this too.

“How do you know?”

Sonny laughs, and Barba actually looks offended.

“What’s so funny? Maybe I… Wait, are you straight?”

Sonny laughs some more. Because, here he is, about to come out to Amnesiac Barba. Because Amnesiac Barba asked him this question hours after meeting him, while Regular Barba never even bothered, in more than a year.

“No. I’m gay.”

“Oh. So what’s so funny? Maybe I _was_ attracted to you. Did you ever ask me?”

Sonny is now laughing out loud, at the very thought of asking Regular Barba, ‘Do you think I’m sexy? Blink twice for yes.’

“Did you miss the part where you hate me, Barba?”

Barba seems to be considering Sonny’s every last word, for some reason.

“Are _you_ attracted to me?”

Sonny blinks.

This is another question Regular Barba never asked him. Thankfully.

Sonny wonders if there’s a good way to tell someone, ‘I think you’re very hot but a total dick and I’m not really into that.’

“Uh. You’re handsome, I guess.”

Barba hums, like he finds that reply acceptable. Sonny thinks that’s about right.

“Tell me something, Sonny. What am I like?”

Sonny manages not to laugh this time.

“I’m not really seeing much of a difference, counselor. You’re pretty much like you are right now. Your personality hasn’t changed. You just don’t remember the specifics of your life. That’s what usually happens with retrograde amnesia.”

“Thank you, Dr. Carisi. Are you going into medicine if this detective thing doesn’t work out?”

Sonny gapes.

He tries to concentrate on what he knows about retrograde amnesia – which, fine, is what he read on Wikipedia – and he recalls that flat-out telling people details about their lives doesn’t really help them remember. So he tries to play it cool once mor–

“Wait, what is it? Why are you making that face? Did I say something?”

Amnesiac Barba also remembers that he’s really observant, apparently.

“You… You called me that, once before. A few weeks ago. ‘Dr. Carisi’. You basically made the exact same comment, almost word for word, about me going into medicine.”

Barba looks a little hopeful.

“Oh. OK. That’s good. Right?”

“Of course it is! It’s great! Don’t push yourself, though. But yeah, this is a good start. I think. You should probably ask a real doctor.”

Barba smiles. It looks weird.

“I think I’ll stick to your advice for now. The real doctor makes me nervous. You don’t.”

Sonny smiles back.

Sonny wonders if there’s a good way to tell someone, ‘I think you’re very hot but a total dick except now you’re being sweet and I’m kind of into that.’

“You know what I think? I think you imprinted on me, Barba. I was the first person you saw, after you conked your head, and I helped you out, and now you think I’m your friend.”

Barba scoffs. It looks normal.

“That’s not it. You just didn’t act like I was personally offending you by not immediately getting all my memories back upon the mere sight of your face. You said it, Sonny. I shouldn’t push myself. The others are pushing me.”

Sonny feels for Barba. He appreciates the kind of pressure Barba must be under. But he feels for Barba’s loved ones as well.

“No, come on. It’s just ‘cause they love you. Your mother, Liv, they really want you to remember them.”

“And you don’t want me to remember you?”

Sonny smirks.

“Actually, I kinda don’t. You’re way nicer to me now. As soon as you remember who I am you’ll start slamming me again.”

Barba laughs. It looks good.

“You can’t blame me. I graduated Harvard Law, it’s practically in my DNA to look down on those who attend lesser schools.”

Sonny somehow manages not to visibly react.

“Yeah, you can’t help yourself, Barba. It’s not your fault. You just _have_ to mock me.”

“No, come on, I’m joking. Fordham Law is a fin–”

Barba stops talking. He gets it.

Sonny is grinning.

“I really think we should call the real doctor now. But only if you want to, counselor.”

Barba suddenly gets nervous.

Sonny instantly regrets his words. He got excited, but Barba still isn’t ready.

“No, it’s alright, we don’t have to. No pressure. Sorry if I pushed. Please don’t kick me out like you did all the others.”

The joke works.

Barba relaxes.

Sonny stays.

They don’t call the doctor until an hour later.

~ ~ ~

Sonny spends the first night at the hospital with Barba.

He knows it’s weird. He knows he’ll regret it in the morning.

But he can’t leave.

Not when Barba is looking at him like that.

Barba clearly wants Sonny to stay, but he won’t ask. Barba clearly wants Sonny to offer, so he can accept nonchalantly.

Sonny indulges him.

“You want me to stick around, counselor? Just for the first night? I don’t mind.”

Barba looks almost adorably thankful.

“If you insist.”

Sonny smiles.

As the night wears on, Sonny thinks this isn’t really _that_ weird. Just like when Rollins was in the hospital, Barba doesn’t really have anyone else. No one that he can handle seeing, anyway. And, unlike when Rollins was in the hospital, Fin is not exactly eager to stay and keep watch while Sonny gets some rest. Rollins and Liv have their kids to worry about, and that’s how Sonny finds himself watching Barba sleep.

It’s quite an image.

Barba wakes up in the middle of the night.

Sonny has just gone to get his fourth refill for the night, and he comes back to the room only to find Barba looking lost. Looking around. Not knowing where he is. Not knowing who he is.

That’s quite an image, too.

An image Sonny wants to forget.

Sonny steps closer, and Barba looks at him. Sonny waits until he can see that Barba recognizes him, and then he sits on the bed.

“It’s OK. You’re OK. You’re in the hospital. You’re not hurt. You’ll be fine.”

Sonny uses every soothing platitude he can think of. Keeps muttering “You’re OK,” keeps awkwardly patting Barba’s calves until he can see Barba nodding.

Barba eventually lies back down.

“If you tell anyone about this, I will deny it ever happened.”

There he is.

Sonny smiles, and he hopes it’s reassuring.

“The old you would have said something with real bite. Something like, ‘if you tell anyone about this, I will have you demoted and transferred back to Staten Island'.”

Barba smiles too. He seems to appreciate that Sonny isn’t making a big deal out of this.

Out of all of this.

“You’re from Staten Island? Maybe that’s why I hate you,” he mumbles, right before he falls asleep again.

Sonny watches him sleep for the rest of the night.

Barba doesn’t wake up until the morning.

~ ~ ~

It’s time for Barba to leave the hospital.

He doesn’t remember much yet, not when it comes to other people, but he has begun to remember some things about himself. His studies, his job, his address. That’s something. Sonny can tell that Barba feels calmer now that he’s gotten his bearings somewhat.

Sonny is there to see Barba off. Sonny has spent a lot of time with the counselor, in that hospital room, in the past couple of days, because Barba kept subtly freaking out every time Sonny tried to leave; every time Sonny tried to give him some space. After the third time, Sonny stopped trying.

Barba’s mother is there. She keeps glancing between her son and Sonny. Keeps shooting Sonny dirty looks. Sonny thinks she suspects there’s more to his relationship with Barba. Sonny doesn’t know how to tell her how ridiculous that is, so he just tries to act friendly but not too friendly toward the counselor.

“Come on, Rafi. Let’s get you home.”

‘ _Rafi’?_

Sonny snorts before he can stop himself, and Barba’s mom glares at him.

Barba seems a lot less harsh and a lot more amused.

“What is it now, Sonny?”

“Nothing, I just… It’s hard to think of you as ‘Rafi’.”

There. Barba’s mom seems to get the message. She exhales, and her relief is palpable. Barba notices too. It’s hard not to. He looks at Sonny knowingly.

Sonny tries to smile. He doesn’t think it works.

Sonny is reconsidering everything he thought he knew about the counselor.

“Mother, I think it would be best if Detective Carisi drove me home. I know you mean well, but you make me anxious, and that’s not good for me right now. I think I need a few hours to settle down, and then you can visit me later tonight.”

Barba sounds like he’s asking politely, but his expression leaves no doubt. He is telling his mother how it’s gonna be. She gets no say in this.

“I’m sure the detective has better things to do, Rafi.”

Barba gets a pleading look on his face. It looks so wrong.

Sonny wants to say ‘you don’t have to look at me like that, I was gonna offer anyway’, but he can’t, not in front of Barba’s mother. Maybe he’ll tell Barba in the car.

“No, no. I got nothing better to do. I got my car here. It’s not a problem. Plus, I’m under orders. Lieutenant Benson has tasked me with keeping an eye on your son, Ma’am. I’d be happy to drive him home.”

Barba looks grateful.

Barba’s mother does not. She looks suspicious again. Like she thinks Sonny is trying to pull one over on her.

“Come on, Rafi, I’m sure this isn’t his job. He’s a detective, not a driver.”

Sonny refuses to let her guilt Barba into submission.

“Nah, it kinda is my job. Your son is always having us cops run his errands. Me, especially, ‘cause I’m low man on the totem pole. Am I right, counselor?”

“Seldom.”

Sonny’s eyes snap up.

Barba’s eyes are wide.

He remembers.

Sonny grins.

“Come on, Barba. Let’s get you home.”

Barba looks all too happy to leave his mother behind.

As soon as they get in the car, Barba starts talking.

“My mother. She knows I’m gay, right? And she has issues with it?”

Sonny doesn’t know how to explain that this is none of his business.

“I think so. But, before you say anything more, I gotta tell you. You and me, we never talked about this stuff. Like I said. We weren’t friends. I never even told you I was gay before, and you never told me.”

Barba nods.

“So you wouldn’t know if I’m dating anyone? I don’t know who else to ask. They told me I’m not married.”

Oh boy.

“I really wouldn’t. I don’t know what you do with your free time. I do know you work too hard, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have fun. Oh, wait, you take a lot of vacations. Like, in St. Barths. In fancy places. I don’t know who you take with you, but I bet you don’t go alone.”

Barba can obviously tell that Sonny is just trying to be nice.

Sonny feels guilty over his inability to answer one simple question.

“Maybe you can ask Liv. When you feel up to it. I think she’d know. You guys are close.”

“But we’re not. You and me.”

“No. Sorry I can’t be of more help. I mean, I _could_ call Liv myself, and ask her, ‘hey, is Barba hooking up with anybody?’ but somehow I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Barba seems to agree.

“Yes, let’s hold off on that. New rule. Don’t do anything that would make me hate you more when I regain my memory.”

Sonny laughs. He knows that will be very difficult.

~ ~ ~

It’s been 4 days.

Barba keeps remembering things. It makes a big difference, him knowing that his condition truly is temporary. He looks a lot less nervous, now. He remembers his mother, he remembers Liv, he remembers his colleagues at the DA’s office, he remembers the squad. He even remembers Sonny.

Kind of.

Barba recognizes everyone, but he doesn’t remember the specifics of their acquaintance. It’s like he can finally put names to the faces, just without context.

Which basically means that he’s still nice to Sonny.

Too nice.

Barba has actually invited Sonny to his place, because he’s had several breakthroughs in Sonny’s presence and he wants to see if he can remember anything more.

Sonny feels strange even being there.

He had refused to come up the first time, when he had driven Barba home, thinking it would be too intrusive. This time, Sonny tried telling Barba that this is a clear violation of their newfound rule. That Regular Barba would never invite Sonny out for coffee, let alone in his freaking apartment for dinner. But Barba shrugged it off, and Sonny didn’t want to push.

Barba’s place is gorgeous. Fancy. Huge. Sonny can tell Barba has chosen every last piece of furniture, every last bit of the décor. After a year of working with the man, he can spot Barba’s taste a mile away.

They have pizza. Sonny thought about offering to cook, but he figured that would make the evening feel too much like a date.

It still kind of feels like a date, which is something Sonny refuses to contemplate.

Barba isn’t allowed to drink, and Sonny says he won’t drink alone.

That’s an excuse. Sonny is glad they’re not drinking. Sonny tends to make mistakes when he’s tipsy. Sonny never wants to get tipsy in the presence of Rafael Barba. He’s managed to avoid that so far, for over an entire year, and he won’t break his streak now.

They have a nice, long talk. Sonny tells Barba about life at the precinct, about the dynamic between the different squad members, about the random funny moments which make all the tragedy bearable. Barba keeps smiling, even though he says nothing rings a bell.

“This is going to sound crazy, Sonny, but did you ever have a moustache?”

At first, Sonny is too shocked to respond.

“Of all the things to remember, counselor, you go and remember the one thing everyone is trying to forget? Myself included?”

Barba grins.

“Do you have a picture?”

Sonny shakes his head, but he pulls up his phone all the same. He goes to Bella’s facebook page and he finds that one truly disastrous picture of himself, the one with the moustache plus that hideous Christmas sweater, for maximum embarrassment. He’s asked Bella to stop tagging him in pictures from that party a million times.

Barba laughs for, like, 10 minutes.

~ ~ ~

On the sixth day, Sonny treats Barba to lunch.

Mostly because he thinks it’ll be less awkward than meeting over at Barba’s place all the time.

It is significantly less awkward.

It’s surprisingly nice, actually.

Normal.

Barba asks Sonny about the job, this time. He asks Sonny to give him some specifics, talk about some of the cases they’ve worked on. Barba thinks that might help. Sonny figures he’ll start with the Hodda trial, since he knows all the details intimately.

“Wait a minute, Sonny. You worked with me? As a prosecutor? How? I thought you said you were still in law school. Did you graduate? Did you pass the bar?”

Sonny feels bad for confusing Barba.

“No, no. I’m still in law school. I was just shadowing you. I’m nowhere near passing the bar.”

Barba looks relieved.

“Oh. I’ll alert the bar association, just in case.”

Sonny grins.

“You told me that before. In those words.”

Barba grins too.

Barba looks kind of endearing when he’s happy.

“It doesn’t sound like I hated you, Sonny.”

Sonny takes a deep breath. How does he tell the truth without ruining an otherwise pleasant lunch?

“I mean, you never told me to my face. And maybe ‘hate’ _is_ a strong word. I just always got the feeling I annoyed you. It’s not a big deal. I get that a lot.”

Barba frowns.

“I don’t know about that. You seem nice. You’ve been really nice to me. With all this. You didn’t have to. Especially if I hated you, like you say I did. I appreciate it. And the jabs, don’t take them personally. That’s just what I do. I think. It’s probably just friendly banter.”

Sonny doesn’t say that it never felt particularly friendly. He just smiles, but his smile is probably a little too telling, because Barba picks up on what he isn’t saying.

“It wasn’t friendly, was it?”

“Sometimes it was. Sometimes it wasn’t.”

Barba nods.

“Okay. I apologize, then. For the times when it wasn’t. Friendly.”

Sonny barely refrains from pinching himself.

“Do me a favor, will you, counselor? Try to remember this moment when you get your memory back. Try to remember that you apologized for being a jerk to me. I wanna see your face when you realize what you did.”

Barba laughs again.

Barba is always laughing.

~ ~ ~

It’s been a week, and Barba is at the precinct.

Barba remembers his personal life now, in detail. Turns out he’s not dating anybody. He remembers his mother. Turns out she knows he’s gay, and she is not happy about it. Unfortunately, he doesn’t remember much about the squad. They’re all just names to him, still. Names and ranks.

But he does remember the law. He seems to have retained all his knowledge. He doesn’t recall specific cases he’s worked on, but the DA has agreed to let him come back to work. He won’t be trying any cases any time soon, but he can do some research. In truth, Barba just wants to see if following his normal routine will maybe help jog his memory.

Barba explained all this to Sonny during a late-night phone call.

Oh yeah. Barba calls him now. All the time.

Barba gives Sonny extensive reports on his regained memories, on his daily activities.

Sonny never asked.

Sonny would have asked, but he thought it would be too presumptuous.

Sonny is happy Barba keeps him updated.

Barba doesn’t just call. He texts too, usually in the mornings, or at random times, whenever he remembers something.

‘ _I just remembered where I buy my ties.’_

‘ _I just remembered my favorite restaurant.’_

‘ _I just remembered Booyah, Fordham Law.’_

But the lengthy phone calls, they usually happen in the evenings.

Sonny has come to enjoy these conversations.

Barba will sometimes call Sonny late at night, just to talk, when he can’t sleep. But, more often than not, Barba calls late in the afternoon, after Sonny gets off work. Barba always seems to know how long it takes for Sonny to get home.

It’s funny, but Sonny misses this.

He misses having someone to talk to, about his day. About his life. Sonny misses having someone to listen to, as well. Not that the situation is in any way comparable, of course it isn’t, but Sonny hasn’t had a relationship in a while, and he can’t deny that talking to Barba almost feels like talking to a boyfriend.

It feels weird, looking forward to someone’s call, after all this time of flying solo. It feels weird, looking forward to hearing someone’s voice.

Barba’s voice.

Barba sounds pretty good on the phone. And he’s fun to talk to. He always has a snarky comment at the ready. But he’s actually pretty attentive, too. He doesn’t just talk. He listens.

Sonny likes talking to him.

It feels cozy. It feels good.

Sonny knows that Barba is just latching on to the one person he can stand, because he’s still in a tough spot and he can’t tolerate the people he normally loves. Sonny knows that, knows this is only temporary, knows that it has to stop.

Sonny knows this _will_ stop, as soon as Barba remembers.

Sonny will keep talking to Barba until that happens.

Speaking of Barba, he almost looks like his old self as he exits Liv’s office. He looks like he always does. His suit is as fancy as ever, and he’s wearing that tie Sonny told him about, the orange one with the dots.

Oh yeah. Amnesiac Barba turns to Sonny for fashion advice.

OK, not really. Barba simply asked which ties he usually wore at work, and Sonny was surprised to discover that he could visualize at least 25 of the counselor’s ties without prompting. Sonny never paid attention to Barba’s ties.

At least not deliberately.

Right?

Barba follows the 25 minutes he spent in Liv’s office with brief yet cordial chats with the other detectives. After a while, he finally approaches Sonny’s desk.

“Good morning, Sonny.”

“I told you, counselor. Call me Carisi. And try to be a little more rude to me, will you? Amnesia is one thing, people are gonna think you’re a pod person.”

Barba smiles.

“OK, _Carisi._ Get your sorry ass up off that chair and drive me to my office. I took a cab here. The doctor says I shouldn’t drive yet.”

“Oh, is that why you came here first? So I could drive you to the DA’s office? You know, I do have a job.”

“I don’t give a crap about your job, Carisi.”

Sonny snorts.

“Was that good? Too rude? Not rude enough?”

Barba is funny. Who knew?

“That was perfect, counselor.”

~ ~ ~

This is the first time Barba will be setting foot in his office since the accident.

Sonny leaves Barba with his secretary for a minute, and checks the office to make sure the bookshelves are all back in place. Firmly attached to the wall, this time. Everything looks good, and the books look to be arranged properly, and Sonny thinks it’s safe for Barba to enter.

Barba doesn’t remember his accident at all, but he knows it happened here.

“My office is nice.”

“Yep. You remember it? Where everything is?”

Barba looks around, takes a few hesitant steps, and then he zeroes in on a cabinet in the large bookcase across the room.

He opens it, and Sonny can see it’s full of what looks like expensive liquor.

“So you _do_ remember the important stuff. Good.”

Barba laughs as he heads for his armchair. Sonny thinks that’s a good idea. Barba is used to looking at the room from that angle. Maybe sitting back there will help him remember.

Barba sits, and then he looks down, and Sonny figures he must be trying to decide on which drawer to open. Sonny is curious to see what Barba keeps in ther–

“Is that my blood?”

Crap.

Sonny immediately walks over to that spot. To that spot where Barba got hurt. To that spot where Barba fell unconscious. To that spot on the carpet that no one bothered to clean.

“Crap. I forgot to check for the stain. I’m sorry. I thought for sure they would have cleaned it by now.”

“The bookcase.”

“What?”

“The bookshelf. It broke. It came off the wall. It fell on my head. That’s how I was hurt.”

Alright. Maybe that stain wasn’t a bad thing after all.

“Yeah. Exactly! I didn’t think you’d remember that. Sometimes people never remember their accident, even if they remember everything else. That’s good.”

“Before I hit my head, you were briefing me on a case. And I could tell that you were working up to asking if you could shadow me again, because you kept throwing hints about some paper you wrote at night school, which obviously made you an expert on the subject.

“And… I was trying to be more brisk than usual, because I wanted to intimidate you into shutting up. Into not asking. Even though that has never worked, because I can never seem to intimidate you. Even though the last time you shadowed me, we worked pretty well together.”

Sonny blinks.

“Uh. Do you… uh?”

“Watch my face, Carisi. This is me, realizing that I apologized for being a jerk to you.”

Sonny laughs out loud.

Barba is sneering.

Barba looks equal parts disgusted, incredulous, embarrassed, condescending and amused.

Barba looks like himself.

“Wow. That’s… That’s awesome, counselor. No take-backs!”

Barba snorts, and then he shakes his head, and then he exhales.

“So you remember everything, right? It’s all back? As far as you can tell?”

“Yes, Carisi. I remember everything. I remember that you met my mother. I remember that you told me which tie to wear. I remember that you took me out to lunch. I remember that we spoke on the phone, at least twice a day, every day this past week. I remember that you were in my apartment. I remember that you watched me sleep.”

Oh.

Sonny was hoping Barba would let that stuff slide, but he supposes that was too much to hope for.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. You were… You weren’t yourself, and you needed help, and I didn’t know how to say no. I’m sorry.”

Barba narrows his eyes. Sonny has missed that look.

“You wanted to say no?”

“No, no, I wanted to help you out. I just knew that, when you got your memory back, you’d hate me even more for meddling. ‘Cause we never got along, you know? We weren’t friends. It wasn’t my place. I get it.”

Barba seems to consider this at length.

“You could have fooled me.”

“Huh?”

“About us not being friends. You could have fooled me. With the way you treated me. You were there for me, Carisi. Thank you.”

Barba looks like he really means that.

“Oh. You’re welcome. It wasn’t a hardship or anything. You were nice. Emphasis on ‘ _were_ ’.”

Barba smirks.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed that while it lasted, Sonny.”

Sonny grins as Barba rolls his eyes.

“Fine. I suppose I can still call you Sonny. It almost feels weird not to, now.”

Sonny is probably a little too happy about that miniscule concession.

“Great! I’ll leave you to it, counselor. You should probably call Liv, she’ll be happy to know you’re back.”

“Unlike you.”

Barba is in the mood for jokes, it seems.

“We can’t have it all, Barba. It was the best week of my life, but it’s over now.”

Sonny is smiling, because that’s a pretty good line. He’s almost halfway to the door when Barba speaks again.

“I don’t hate you.”

Sonny turns around.

“I never did. I didn’t know you felt that way. I thought you knew I was just teasing you.”

Sonny is pretty sure Barba is apologizing for being a jerk to him.

Again.

With his memory intact this time.

Sonny smiles.

“That’s good to know, counselor. I appreciate it.”

“And you can shadow me again. You pick the case.”

Sonny abruptly realizes that Barba probably feels guilty. For mistreating Sonny, when Sonny went out of his way to help in a time of need.

Sonny doesn’t need that. Doesn’t need Barba’s pity.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but you don’t owe me anything, Barba. We’re good.”

“It’s not that. You helped, the last time. You have potential.”

“Now I _know_ you’re lying. Seriously, it’s all good. You can stop trying to be nice to me.”

Barba looks at Sonny. He looks very focused. It’s almost scary.

And hot.

Scary and hot.

That’s Barba, for you.

“What if I said I wanted to be nice to you, Sonny?”

“I’d say that you were probably still having some cognitive issues.”

“On the contrary, I remember everything. I remember you said I was handsome.”

Sonny’s mouth drops open. He can’t believe Barba is bringing that up. If only because he knows that Barba can’t talk about that without also talking ab-

“I remember saying that I’m attracted to you.”

There it is.

“Yeah, I won’t hold that against you, counselor. You didn’t know who I was when you said that. And, not to brag, but I _am_ kinda cute.”

Barba smiles. Like he agrees.

Like he’s flirting.

“Yes. That picture of you, with the moustache, and that ugly Christmas sweater? It was _very_ cute.”

Sonny doesn’t know what Barba’s endgame is, so he tries to twist that joke into a way out.

“That’s a low blow, Barba. Anyway. I need to head out. Let’s just forget any of this ever happened, OK? No pun intended. That picture, especially. And… and what you said. What I said. It’s all in the past.”

“Do you want to have dinner with me, Sonny?”

“Uh.”

“It would be a date. If that wasn’t clear.”

“Uh.”

“I’ll be blunt. I _am_ attracted to you. I was, before, and I am now. Maybe more. Because you _are_ cute, but you’re also a good friend. I liked talking to you, this past week. I actually looked forward to it, every night. Calling you. Hearing your voice. I liked spending time with you, Sonny. I had a good time. I had fun.

“I think you did too. I think that we _can_ get along. I think this could be something. If I conveniently forget all my preconceptions about you. And if you’re willing to do the same. Our phone calls, our lunch dates. Our dinners. They don’t have to stop. We don’t have to stop, just because I got my memory back.

“I don’t want to stop. So, have dinner with me. What do you say? And don’t say ‘uh’.”

Dammit.

Sonny really wanted to say ‘uh’.

He settles for something else.

“I’d like that. This week was fun for me too. And I didn’t wanna stop either. I’m just glad _you_ said something, ‘cause I never would have. After everything that happened, I was planning on avoiding you until your retirement.”

Barba smiles.

This smile is different.

Sonny can’t explain why. All he knows is that this smile is different, and that he likes it.

This whole thing is crazy, but you never know. Maybe they can just go out, have a nice dinner, and take it from there. Maybe it’ll work out. Stranger things have happened.

Barba gets up, probably to see Sonny ou-

Oh.

Barba is kissing him.

_Oh._

Barba has his large hand on the small of Sonny’s back, low, and he’s holding Sonny flush against his body, and he’s kissing Sonny, and it feels kind of amazing.

It’s strange, but this entire week, while Barba was struggling with amnesia, Sonny never looked at him that way. Sexually. Sonny was just trying to be a supportive friend.

Sonny tries to ignore the obvious interpretation. That he’s only attracted to Barba when Barba is being rude. No. Instead, Sonny chooses to believe that he’s only attracted to Barba when Barba is being himself.

Which is possibly the same thing.

If not worse.

Even so, Sonny’s attraction to Barba has returned along with the counselor’s memories. Except this time, it’s not a grudging physical attraction. Not like before. This time, Sonny doesn’t just want to bang Barba, hard and fast, in a dark corner somewhere. This time, Sonny likes Barba.

Which is definitely worse.

And that’s an understatement.

Barba is still kissing him, and now his other hand is around Sonny’s waist, and Sonny is trying to kiss back but he’s not sure he’s succeeding because he’s literally in Barba’s arms, and Barba’s body is so warm, and his arms are so strong, and Sonny’s arms are just hanging, and he should really touch Barba, but he doesn’t know where, because he can’t exactly think straight right now.

Before Sonny can decide, Barba pulls away.

He’s smiling that same, different smile.

“I’ve wanted to do that all week.”

Sonny is glad Barba waited.

He doesn’t say that, because he can’t speak yet, but Barba seems to get it.

“I’ll call you tonight, after work. We’ll take it from there.”

Sonny nods.

“I look forward to it, counselor.”

He really does.

Sonny pulls Barba in for one more kiss, one quick kiss before he leaves.

Barba keeps smiling.

~ ~ ~

Sonny sits at his desk, practically twiddling his thumbs.

It’s not even eleven o’clock yet. He won’t get to talk to Barba for hours.

Sonny keeps checking his phone anyway.

It feels weird, looking forward to someone’s call, after all this time of flying solo.

Sonny’s phone buzzes.

It’s a text.

‘ _I just remembered that you can cook.’_

Sonny grins as he types his reply.

_'Try to remember your favorite food too, and I'll see what I can do.'_

Barba's reply is instantaneous.

_'Deal. Your place. Tonight.'_

Sonny quickly texts back.

_'Remember some good wine, too, while you're at it. And then buy it.'_

It’s not even eleven o’clock yet.

Sonny keeps checking his phone.

It buzzes again.

**Author's Note:**

> Just another little one-off in which I dabbled with slightly different characterization. This one starts off a little more true to canon. There are no hidden long-held feelings, just a hidden attraction (because that's totally canon, let's face it).
> 
> The feelings come later.


End file.
